


A Rainbow of Blues

by CasMayaSutra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dad!Castiel, Doctor!Dean, M/M, Prompt Fic, Romantic Fluff, fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8064874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasMayaSutra/pseuds/CasMayaSutra
Summary: Prompt!fic requested by Fran on F!B : http://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopupEvery once in a while, paediatric doctor, Dean Winchester, has a patient that touches his heart. Claire Novak was one of those kids.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [palominopup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/gifts).



“Holy Shit! I’m getting married!”, thought Dr. Dean Winchester to himself as looked in the mirror and adjusted his bow tie. Unsurprisingly, it was blue. In fact, his entire life had been a palette of blues since he first laid eyes on…His stomach gave a little flutter as he remembered another wedding day, 5 years ago, when he had donned a tuxedo, and at his bride’s request, a rainbow tie. He felt his eyes prick with unshed tears as he thought of her, her too blue eyes shining with excitement as she looked at her groom walk into the room, a single red rose in his hand, and held out his hand to her. The gleam in her eyes when he slipped the little golden band around the ring finger on her right hand. He marvelled at how different it was from the first time he looked into those eyes.

 

***********************************************

Blue. Intense, terrified blue. That was his first introduction to Claire Novak, and first impressions, as they say, last a lifetime.

*************************************************

 

“Paging Dr. Winchester!” The hospital speakers blared. “Dr. Winchester to Emergency!”

Dean Winchester rolled groggily off the lumpy couch in the Doctor’s lounge, wishing not for the first time, that there was a spell that could exorcise that irritatingly calm voice out of the hospital PA system. He had been on call for twenty four hours, covering an additional shift for his friend, Dr. Charlie Bradbury, who had to leave in an emergency because her girlfriend had gone into labour. The school holiday period was a busy one for the Paediatric ward, with hyper energetic kids getting into more trouble than it was worth in an effort to alleviate the boredom of holidays, making sure the pediatrics staff at the hospital were kept on their toes attending to a wide variety of ailments, from broken bones to pencils/crayons/paper stuck in noses and ears, including, in the case of one very curious 8 year old, a finger stuck in the small vacuum cleaner attachment that no one really knows the function of. Dean looked at the clock above the coffee machine, frowning at the time. It was too late in the night for accidental injuries, and his heart beat sped up thinking about the possibilities as to why a child was being brought into emergency at this hour. He knew from past experience, that things which brought children to the hospital in the middle of the night were rarely pretty, and horrifying enough to destroy any faith one might have in humanity. Cursing loudly, he snatched his coat from the arm of the couch, pulling it on as he rushed towards the emergency rooms.

Rounding the corner at a run, Dean was met by the emergency nurse, who started firing the vital statistics of the patient he was called for. 2 year old, female, presenting with severe breathing difficulty, possible reduced lung capacity, BP, heart rate, oxygenation… he absorbed all these details on the run, as he approached the bed holding his tiny patient.

Dean was arrested by the blue of the big round eyes staring up at him from above the oxygen mask, and his heart lurched in response, tugging his lips into a reassuring smile as he looked down at the round face, framed by light golden hair, looking impossibly small on the standard emergency bed. “Hey, Angel!” He wiggled his fingers in greeting. A spark of recognition lit up in the little girl’s eyes at the greeting. Dean was surprised, but pushed that aside as his professional persona started assessing the symptoms and drawing conclusions as he fired off instructions to the nurse at his side - tests required, medications, dosages and care instructions.

Once he had confirmed that his patient was stabilised and out of immediate danger, he allowed himself a deep breath of relief, and turned his attention back to the little girl. “So, Angel” he addressed her again, seeing once more the spark of recognition in her eyes, “Are you feeling better now?” The girl gave a hesitant nod of her head. Dean always made it a point to talk to his little patients first, no matter how young they were, making sure they didn’t feel alienated and scared because no-one bothered to tell them what was happening. Of course he knew, some of them, like Claire Novak, were perhaps too young to actually understand what he was saying, but the act of talking directly to them rather than above them to their parents or care givers, seemed to calm the children, almost as if they felt they knew what was happening.

Dean had learnt this the hard way, having practically raised his younger brother, a job he was handed when he was four years old. Dean still remembered the nightmares and various illnesses he nursed Sammy through, and because there was nobody to instruct him how, he ended up doing what he wished someone would do for _him_ when he was ill or scared. Welcome to Parenting by Proxy, Winchester-style.

He turned his attention back to his patient. “Now, I wonder if you can help me solve a mystery?” He sincerely asked her.

“I have to know how you managed to get this particular shade of blue in your eyes!” He whispered to her, as if divulging a great secret. “But of course, we will need to wait until you are feeling better enough to talk. Do you think you could stay a little longer till you can tell me?” 

He saw Claire’s eyes widen behind the mask, and she nodded as enthusiastically as the various paraphernalia around her little head would allow. 

He grinned widely at her, “Thank you, Angel! You sleep well now, and I’ll see you in the morning, OK? He patted her little hand reassuringly as he turned around to look for the parents of the little girl, who he knew must be anxious to know what was happening.

 

*************************************************

Blue. Clouded to the point of being grey, drowning in a sea of tears. 

*************************************************

 

Dean scanned the sea of faces in the emergency room, hoping to spot someone who looked like a waiting parent, when his eyes collided with a pair of blue eyes that were very familiar. The man was hunched up, leaning tiredly against the wall, his red rimmed eyes glistened wetly, and his hair looked like he had been constantly running his fingers though it in worry.

“Mr. Novak?” He asked, as he held out a hand, sure that the exact shade of blue would really be hard to duplicate without DNA being involved. The man straightened up as Dean approached, acknowledging him with a nod. “I’m Dr. Winchester,” Dean said as he shook hands with the man, “I am the Paediatrician looking after Claire.

“How is she? Is she OK?” The man looked around frantically, trying to locate his little girl amongst the curtained off emergency cubicles. 

“She is stable now,” he reassured the distraught man. We are arranging to move her to a room for further treatment and observation. We will also need to run some investigations to rule out any complications due to her episode. Why don’t you come into my office so we can discuss her medical history, and I can explain the tests and follow up course of action. I will be there in about 30 minutes after I have checked that Claire has been transferred and her medications have started as prescribed”

He looked at Novak for an answer or agreement but the man looked so lost that Dean broke his professional demeanour and placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He jerked up at the contact, startling Dean, and suddenly asked, “Can I see her?”

Dean felt like a fool. Of course the guy would want to see his daughter first! “Of course!” He excalimed, “I meant we can talk after you have seen her.” “In fact, I am on my way to her room now. Why don’t I walk with you?” 

 

*************************************************

Blue. Like the sky lightening after a dark storm has spent itself. Relief flooding the depths like a gentle tide, washing away fear and terror . 

*************************************************

 

Dean held the door open for Novak to pass through before entering himself. The man rushed into the room and was at the bed before Dean could take a step inside, and seemed to freeze at the sight of his little girl dwarfed by the gadgets surrounding her little frame. His hands flew to his mouth, and he bit a fist as if making an effort to stop from making a horrified sound or crying out loud. He looked up at Dean, a thousand questions in his eyes, none of them making it to his lips, the fear and terror warring with the relief at seeing his daughter. 

“She’s sleeping now” The nurse said gently. “The poor thing was exhausted after her episode earlier”

Dean checked the charts at the end of the bed, signed off on the medication plan and instructed the nurse for the overnight shift.

He turned to the other man to ask him if he wanted to accompany him to his office, but looking at his shattered features, he changed his mind and said, “Mr. Novak, why don’t you stay with Claire tonight, and if its ok with you, we can talk in the morning when I come for my rounds.”

“Th..Thank you, Doctor.” The man stammered in relief. “And thank you, for saving my little Angel”

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, now understanding the expression of recognition in Claire’s eyes earlier, when he had inadvertently used the same word when talking to her in the emergency room. 

“Oh. Don’t mention it,” he said, as he backed out of the room, “I’ll see you in the morning”.

 

********************************************************

Blue. Swirling waters of a mountain lake, reflecting the morning light of a rising sun.

***********************************************************

 

When Dean ordered his coffee at the corner cafe outside the hospital the next morning, on impulse he picked up an extra cup before heading to Claire’s room to start his rounds. Walking into the room, he sees Claire’s father asleep on the visitor’s chair, his head resting awkwardly on the bed near Claire’s sleeping form. He winced in sympathy at the uncomfortable position before calling out softly. “Mr. Novak?” Dean whispered. The man in question startled awake, looking confused before he realised where he was. “Here, I brought you some coffee,” Dean said awkwardly, handing the extra cup to the man in front of him. He felt captivated by the man’s eyes, which were even more startlingly blue in the sunlight streaming in through the curtains at the window. Novak gave a small, grateful smile as he took the cup from Dean and whispered “Thank you, Dr. …um..” His eyes widened in embarassment as he realised he didn’t remember the name of the doctor who saved his daughter’s life, “Uh..Doctor!” He finished lamely. 

“Please, call me Dean.” Dean felt an irresistible urge to put this man at ease.

“I’m Castiel” he said.

 

********************************************************

Blue. Devastated glaciers breaking into a stormy sea, their brilliance melting into the swirling waters.

***********************************************************

 

Dean Winchester hated this part of his job. Being the voice of doom, revealing the results of a multitude of tests to parents who were hoping for him to tell them otherwise. Their eyes a strange mixture of terror and hope, which one would win the war hinging on the fatal blow to one of those emotions being dealt at the words uttered by him. 

He looked across the desk at Castiel Novak, knowing which one of the emotions he was going to smother today. Dreading the shade of blue that would appear in those eyes that he had come to know well over the past two weeks, over morning ritual of take-away coffee and across the bed of a 2 year old angel. 

Nonetheless, the executioner needed speaking, the words unchangeable on the lab reports in front of him, and so, he spoke, and unwillingly discovered a shade of blue he never wanted to encounter again

 

********************************************************

Blue. Shining brilliantly, like the sun emerging after weeks of rain, hesitant, yet hopeful.

**********************************************************

 

The day that Claire Novak went into remission, 3 years after she was first brought into the Emergency ward and into Dean Winchester’s life, is marked in the doctor’s mind as the momentous occasion when Castiel Novak’s smile finally made the journey from his lips to his eyes.It may also be momentous because that was the day Dean allowed himself to admit, finally, that he was completely and irrevocable in love with Castiel. 

Oh he knew, of course he _knew_. He knew, when he brought the morning coffees during every one of Claire’s numerous hospital stays. He knew, when the man broke down and cried like a child one evening at the bar, the first of many such evenings being when Dean broke his personal protocol because he realised that in all the times that Castiel had been at the hospital with Claire, not one friend or family member had visited, not even once. He was compelled, at first out of empathy, and later because those evenings sometimes managed to clear the terror and worry from the blue. And so helplessly, every time that Castiel needed a shoulder to lean on Dean had been there. When Castiel held out a hand in despair at his little angel’s suffering, Dean was there to grasp it in his own, providing reassurance and strength. Of course, he _knew_.

Admitting it, however had been a battle he had always lost with himself. How could he tell this man, despairing at the hand that life had dealt for his daughter?. How could he talk of love, when the person Castiel loved the most was wasting away in a hospital bed? And so he never permitted himself the luxury of admission, channeling it instead in morning coffees and comforting evenings, in finding a cure, something, anything that would cleanse the two pairs of blue eyes that had become the two poles of his world.

 

********************************************************

Blue. Joyful brilliant blue, conrflowers dancing in the sunlight 

**********************************************************

 

When the nurses asked Claire Novak about her little dream wedding, Dean Winchester thought that like any 5 year old, she would name a fairytale Prince Charming. As he saw the shy hopeful look in the blue eyes as she pointed at Dean, he knew that there was no universe in which he would refuse to be the groom to fulfill his angel’s command. What he did not know however, was just how much the blue could bloom in joy, shining in anticipation, a field of cornflowers swaying in the sun, eager to meet life head on, when he said “Yes!”

As the nurses helped his little “bride” open her wedding gifts, however, Dean found himself searching out a different pair of blue, and found them, damp and tremulous, in a corner of the room, leaning in relief against the wall, unbelieving that a nightmare that lasted three long years was finally, finally over. And when Dean Winchester walked up to Castiel Novak that day, he did it with the determination of making damn sure that from now onwards, the palette of blues in his life would never again be clouded by pain, fear or terror. Not if he had anything to say about it!

 

********************************************************

Blue. The calm cloudless blue sky of an eternal Tuesday afternoon in summer.

**********************************************************

 

Two years after Claire Novak walked out of the hospital for the last time, and five years after Dean Winchester’s life was painted in myriad shades of blue, he knocked on the door of Castiel Novak’s house, a blue Tiffany’s box in his pocket. That was when Dean found out, that despite the many shades of blue he had seen in the last few years, this particular variant had never before appeared in the man’s blue eyes. Dean Winchester _loved_ this blue!

 

********************************************************

 

“Dad!” “DAD!!” The voice from the door startled him back to the present. He looked up, his green gaze meeting familiar blue eyes in the mirror, at the blonde little girl standing there, a vision in yellow and blue. 

“Hey, Angel!” He wiggled his fingers in a wave, before turning around. “So, what do you think?” He asked, spreading his arms in a gesture to show his attire.

Claire Novak came forward into the room, walked around Dean as if holding a military inspection, and stopped in front of him. She held his hand in hers, turned it around palm up, and placed a little box in his hand. “I think,” she whispered, “that my father is a very lucky man.” Then her blue eyes turned mischievous as he opened the box she had handed him, his eyes widening as he saw a familiar gold band on a golden chain “So long as _this time_ , you put it on the correct finger!”

 

 


End file.
